


River Squad

by AwfulLoneliness



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Brotherly Love, Fix-It of Sorts, For being so reliant on their brothers, Friendship, Gen, I can see it with Hashi and Tobi but c'mon, Madara and Hashirama sure dropped the ball and didn't introduce them earlier, Madara and Izuna are so codependent they probably go to the bathroom together, no beta we die like shinobi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:01:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26464567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AwfulLoneliness/pseuds/AwfulLoneliness
Summary: Hashirama and Madara meet at the river and dream of a better future. They ask themselves how and realize they don't know.Luckily, their brothers are wicked smart.
Relationships: Senju Hashirama & Senju Tobirama, Senju Hashirama & Uchiha Madara, Senju Tobirama & Uchiha Izuna, Senju Tobirama & Uchiha Madara, Uchiha Izuna & Uchiha Madara
Comments: 48
Kudos: 143





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheQueen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheQueen/gifts).



> This is a plot bunny @TheQueen had on discord and I took on the challenge. I hope you like it!

This is a story about brothers, and about how to be a brother.  _ (This is also a cautionary tale about parenthood). _

This is a story that has begun and ended many times.  _ (This is a story that will never end). _

The beginning that interests us is simple enough: two boys skip stones on a river.

There is a young boy on the riverbank. He's dressed in a hand-me-down dark blue yukata, his skin is the tone of pale people who spend their days in the sun, his eyes are sparkling black and his smile would be best described as cocky. You wouldn't notice any of that when first faced with his hair.

His hair is black, coarse but shiny, and it's  _ expansive. _ Spikes jut out in every direction possible, and two impossible. It seems to have lost seven fights with a brush in a row, and it looks like it has moods and possibly some sort of sentience.  _ (One of the boy's younger brothers has started teasing him about it, but it's easy for the younger brother because he has inherited the good hair genes). _

The boy with the sentient hair is 11, or 12, or 13; it's hard to tell. You would see him and think  _ preteen; _ his family saw him and thought  _ old enough to kill. (For you, this is wrong; for him, it is what it is). _

The boy has a name, which he quite likes because it's his and his alone: Madara. The boy also has a surname, which he quite likes because it means strength and family: Uchiha.

So Madara throws a stone and it skips four times on the surface of the river and then sinks.

Another stone flies from behind him, skips all the way across the river and lands on the other side. Madara turns around and sees another boy, lowering the hand he used to throw the stone.

There is another boy on the riverbank. He's dressed in several layers of light-colored hand-me-downs  _ (but the scarf he wears around his neck is new, a birthday gift from one of his younger brothers, and that's why the scarf is precious to him). _ His skin is the color of cherry tree wood, his eyes are deep and black, his smile is big and easy and his hair sits on a perfect bowl cut of soft, shiny hair, brown so dark it might be black. All of that is inconsequential in the face of his emoting.

His emotions are on his sleeves all the time, and they are all-encompassing. Good or bad or neutral, he feels his emotions wholly and shows them with all his body. His laugh booms from his belly and shakes his shoulders, his determination stops landslides on their tracks and his sadness is visible above his head.  _ (One of his brothers, the one that grew up too fast, tells him emotions should be killed, but the boy pays him no mind). _

The boy that emotes is 11, or 12, or 13; it's hard to tell. He is also a preteen, but also old enough to kill.  _ (For you, this is still wrong; for him, it sits awkwardly on the pit of his stomach). _

The boy has a name, which he feels indifferent about: Hashirama. The boy also has a surname, which he used to think meant love but is now not so sure: Senju.

Madara and Hashirama had never seen each other before. They also knew each other better than anyone else.  _ (These two statements are not mutually exclusive). _

Madara and Hashirama skip stones, and talk, and spar, and fight, and dream.

But this is not a story about Madara and Hashirama; that story is told elsewhere. This is a story about brothers, and about learning to be a brother.

Izuna was worried about his brother. Since Kurohito died, Madara was acting weird. He was getting  _ philosophical. _

They were watching the stars after sparring in the dark the first time it happened.

“Do you believe in peace?” Madara had asked, and Izuna had looked at him like he had grown another head.

“Yes. Remember that town by the sea? It was so peaceful there they'd never seen a shinobi.”

“No, I mean... peace for us.”

“But we're shinobi, aniki. If we don't fight then what do we do?” Izuna answered, frowning.

“I don't know,” Madara said after a while, and then kept quiet.

Tobirama didn't speak much, but he watched a lot, and since Itama's death he had watched his brother change. Outwardly, he was still the same doofus loudmouth as always, but now he seemed to have found some sort of...  _ direction. _

“How do you make sure people follow the rules?” Hashirama had asked one day after breakfast, when Father was already gone, and Tobirama raised an eyebrow at him, waiting for clarification. “You said peace can be achieved by making rules and sticking to them, so how do you make sure people follow the rules?”

Tobirama gave the question the consideration it deserved.

“You make and enforce punishments for breaking them,” he eventually answered.

“By force then?”

“I guess,” Tobirama shrugged, and Hashirama looked crestfallen at that.

“How many times do we work for civilians? Apart from lords,” Madara asked, looking up from some contracts.

“What do you mean?” Izuna put down his brush, befuddled.

“How much of our contracts are for anything that's not a war? Like guarding caravans, escorting people and dealing with bandits and...things like that.”

“Ehhh... shouldn't  _ you  _ know? You're the heir.”

“Well, yes, but you have a good head for numbers.”

“That's true, your head's only good to hold that rat's nest you call hair.”

“Hey!”

“I'll go check the records while you evict the rats.”

“HEY!”

“Tobira, do you have maps?” Hashirama asked.

“I have many maps. Which one do you need?” Tobirama answered.

“I need cities. As many cities as you have.”

Tobirama stopped searching through the scrolls and stared at him. “It's not for a mission.”

“Nope,” Hashirama smiled. When he didn't elaborate, his brother sighed.

“Then what is it for?”

“I want to know how to build a city. Hey, I bet you'd build a great city! Can you help me?”

“I have better things to do than building a pretend city, anija.”

“Oh, pleeeeeaaase, Tobi! It’d be a fun thought experiment, and you like those! Come on, help your anija, would you? You know I'm kind of dumb.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Oh,” Hashirama's dark mood was visible. He hugged his knees and became teary-eyed. “Talked down by my own little brother. I'm just an embarrassment for you, I don't deserve your help. I'll just go over there and plan a city with sewers on the hospital backyard.”

Tobirama whacked him on the head with a scroll. “Stop it, I know what you're doing! I was going to help you anyway.”

The boys are sitting on top of a cliff.  _ (The cliff is symbolic. Most of their lives are symbolic but they will never be aware of the fact). _

They were dreaming a world-wide dream, but reality interrupted them. Four men dressed in armor spotted them, and thought of them as easy prey. If they had been alone they  _ would _ have been, but together, they are stronger than the sum of their selves.  _ (Together, for good or bad, the world will bow to their will. They will not be aware of this fact until much later). _

They leave this encounter with mild injuries and two distinct feelings: dread at being almost killed and confidence that teamwork works best.

Madara kept asking all those weird questions, and he spent an awful lot of time training by himself away from their house. He also never invited Izuna, and that was weird because they did everything together.

So if one day Izuna tailed him, it was because he was worried.

He followed at a prudent distance, because Madara was a decent sensor and he didn't want to be caught. The trail was barely there, because Madara was an excellent shinobi, but Izuna was just as good, and it led to the river and then downstream.

He walked towards him, hidden by the treeline, until he heard shouting.

“Stop standing behind me!” Madara was saying, and Izuna crept closer.

Right where the river made a ravine, Madara was chasing another boy, left to right and right to left. He seemed exasperated, in the same way he had been with Togakushi and Kou when they were still alive, a fond sort of exasperation.

Madara and the other boy fell into the river, and when they kicked back to the surface, they were laughing.

The boy was an enemy shinobi but Madara was laughing and joking and playing with him and he was happy. And Izuna wasn't part of that.

He turned around and went back home, and if he felt his face wet, it was only sweat because shinobi don't cry.

That night, Izuna didn't know what to do. He should tell Father because Madara might be in danger. Maybe the other boy was a spy  _ (Izuna hoped the other boy was a spy),  _ but his brother had seemed so happy, happier than ever since Kurohito died and he had become clan heir  _ (Izuna was angry –jealous-- his brother didn't see the risks --couldn't be that happy with just him--). _

Tomorrow he would tell Father, he thought, glaring daggers at Madara as the older boy unrolled the futon next to him.

“Spit it out,” his brother said, laying down.

“Nothing to spit,” Izuna answered.

“Come on, you've been giving me dirty looks all day. What's happening?”

“ _ Nothing.” _

“Are you sure?”

“ _ Yes.” _

“It's not about your tantou, right? I already said I'm sorry.”

“It's not about the tantou!” Izuna turned his face to the wall. His eyes were stinging and he didn't want his brother to see.

Madara remained silent, sitting on the futon and looking at Izuna for a long time.

“Hey, brat, I can use your help,” he said after a while. Izuna huffed and turned his back to him. “No, really, I need your help with something. Can you help me?” he started poking Izuna's back and sides. “Help me, help me, help me.”

“Stop it, aniki! Ask someone else for help!”

“Nope, I need yours,” Madara kept poking him.

“Fine, fine! What do you need?”

“I'll tell you tomorrow, but you have to promise to keep it a secret.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shenanigans? Shenanigans.

The next day, Madara dragged Izuna out of the compound before Izuna had time to speak with their father.

“What do you need my help with, aniki?” Izuna asked conversationally. He wasn't as angry as yesterday, and he was pleased to notice they were heading away from the river.

“I've been thinking. I... don't like the way things are now, you know? The adults make us fight and we don't know why.”

“But we know,” Izuna argued. “We fight because they pay us to.”

“But what about outside of missions? Nobody pays us to fight the Senju or the Kaguya but we fight them anyway.”

“The Senju are different, they're trying to kill us. And the Kaguya are their allies.”

“And we're trying to kill them. It's a circle that never ends: they kill us, we kill them, and everyone's taking revenge for the revenge taken before. When did it start? When will it end?”

“It ends when there's not a single Senju left.”

“And how many more of us will die before it happens? And what if we can't kill them? What if there's another fight with another clan? What if there's more alliances? There has to be a better way, a way that won't make kids die.”

Izuna gave his brother a dubious look. “So you want to what? Stop all the fighting?”

“Yes,” Madara gave him a toothy grin. “And you're smart enough to help us figure out how.”

Izuna stopped dead on his tracks. “Us? This is what it was about, isn't it?”

“You know,” Madara said, paling.

“Oh, yes, I know  _ all  _ about your new boyfriend. I almost believed you really needed me, but you only want peace to go all kissy on him, don't you?” Izuna sneered and turned around to leave, but Madara grabbed his arm.

“Izuna, please,” he begged. “He... I... I want peace so you don't have to fight. I don't want to lose you too. He understands that, and I... want you to... understand it too?”

“Do you think I'm not good enough to fight?”

“I know you are, we're equals! But if there were no fighting Kou and Togakushi and Kurohito wouldn't be dead now, we'd still be five! I don't want other people losing brothers. Please?”

“I should tell Father. He might be a spy.”

“No, don't tell him. He isn't a spy.”

“How can you be sure?”

“I don't know, but I am. He's actually a dumbass, and if you meet him you'll see.”

Izuna thought for a while. “What if I don't like him?”

“Then I won't see him again.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Izuna stepped out of the treeline with his eyes pre-narrowed in suspicion because he already  _ hated  _ his guy.

So what if Madara beamed when he saw him despite not smiling since Kurohito died? It just meant Madara had  _ awful _ taste in friends.

_ Really  _ really _ truly  _ awful _. _ Awful bow cut, ridiculous and stupid and awful and Izuna  _ hated  _ it. He also  _ hated _ that guy's clothes. So many  _ unnecessary _ layers, one over the other over the other over the other, he looked  _ stupid. _

And the way he came over to where Izuna and Madara were, smiling all broad and bright?  _ What an idiot. _

“Hello, Madara!” he said,  _ like a jerk. _ “And hello you too! Who are you?”

Izuna scowled at him instead of answering, so Madara rolled his eyes and smacked him upside the head.

“He's Izuna,” Madara said. “Apparently he woke up grumpy.”

Izuna turned his scowl to his brother.

“Izuna your younger brother?” The idiot smiled even  _ broader;  _ how was that even possible? “I'm so happy to meet you! Madara has told me a lot about you, he says you're really smart! I'm Hashirama!”

Izuna stepped forward and glared at him, really  _ glared,  _ crossing his arms and pursing his lips (he was too old to pout thankyouverymuch), then he lifted his hand and poked the idiot hard on the chest.

“What do you want with aniki?” he snarled.

“Izuna!” Madara squeaked behind him.

The dumbass looked puzzled. “Want with him? Well, I was thinking we could race on the river down to the rapids. But I don't know now, because over there it gets harder to waterwalk and I don't know if you can..?”

“I can!”

“Oooohhh, can youuuu...?”

“Yes!”

“Then prove it!”

The asshole ran off without a warning like a cheating idiot, and Madara was hot on his heels, obviously used to the idiot's cheating ways.

“Run, Izuna!” his brother said as his feet hit the water, but Izuna was already sprinting.

The idiot was  _ fast, _ even faster than Madara. They had almost reached the rapids and Izuna was trailing hopelessly behind them. He tried to speed up but his legs couldn't move any faster, not even with chakra.

Suddenly Madara stopped in the middle of the river, turned around and extended his arm.

“Izuna!” he shouted.

Izuna understood and grabbed his brother's hand as he ran by. The force made Madara spin once, twice on his heels and then he let go of Izuna, launching him towards the rapids.

Izuna glided over the water, his feet leaving a trail of foam behind him. He laughed as he left Hashirama behind and reached the rapids. He had won, unfair and square! That would show him!

He spun around and made faces at him, not seeing where he was going, but he did see Hashirama's and Madara's eyes grow wide and he realized he had reached the bend in the river as his feet touched the bank.

He flew backwards, unaware if the loud cursing was coming from him or his brother, and skipped, skipped, skipped, rolled rolled rolled  _ CRASHED _ against a tree. A bird that was nesting there took it as a personal offense and descended on him, chirping and flying around his head to scare him off.

“Izuna, Izuna!” Madara said, dropping to his knees beside him. “Are you hurt?”

Izuna blinked a couple of times and scared the bird away before sitting up.

“Ouch,” he said, and gave Hashirama a shit-eating grin. “But I won.”

Hashirama, who was hovering right behind Madara, dropped to the ground and hugged his own knees.

“Yes, you did,” he whimpered. “I can't believe I lost to you two. Oh wait, I mean, I can't believe it took two of you to beat me.”

“You cheated and now you're angry we cheated back?! Idiot!” Madara shouted and jumped on him, and Izuna followed.

Fists and feet and elbows and knees flew around, hair and clothes were pulled, and it devolved into the most inelegant roughhousing any of them had ever taken part in.

“So, what do you think?” Madara asked Izuna on the way back to their compound, picking leaves out of his hair.

Izuna wasn't really sure. On one hand, Hashirama was too much of a dumbass to be a spy so it was probably safe to hang out with him, and he had been very welcoming of Izuna, and so much fun to be around. On the other hand, Madara was  _ too  _ fond of him, almost uncannily so, and they connected on a level Izuna couldn't even understand.  _ But,  _ Madara was smiling again, so...

“He's fine,” he answered with a shrug.

“See! I told you you'd like him!” Madara beamed and threw his arm around Izuna's shoulders.

“But you can't see him so often, aniki. If Father or Mother find out they'll kill you.”

“I know, but now that you're with me we can tell them we're training together. And it won't even be a lie, we  _ are  _ training together.”

Izuna hummed noncommittally before springing the question that was plaguing him.

“What clan is he from?”

“I didn't ask and he didn't tell,” Madara said, sobering up.

“But you know anyway.”

“I have an idea, yeah.”

“Do I want to know?”

“Probably not.”

“I hope you don't get us in too much trouble, aniki.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had so much fun writing Izuna's POV :D


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're ever stuck writing a fic focus on Tobirama's internal monologue and you'll write almost 1k words without realizing. This applies to all fandoms. Should you write a stucky or a stony? Ask Tobirama. Is revenge on Goku a good motivation for this villan? Ask Tobirama.

The boys have parents intent on shaping them to thrive.  _ (There is a lie in that statement). _

The boy who emotes has lost his mother when he was eight, to a mission gone wrong, and he was told that was the way their world was.

He remembers callused hands, helping him hold weapons too big for him, running healing chakra on his scraped knees. He remembers wild white hair  _ (like his remaining brother)  _ and laughing red eyes  _ (unlike his remaining brother). _

The boy who emotes still has his father, the head of his clan. His father watches as other family members train the boy until he only stands up by sheer willpower, but he isn't pleased. His father himself sometimes trains the boy until he only stands up by sheer willpower, and yet he isn't pleased. In his father's eyes, the problem is not the boy's training, it's his  _ attitude. _

The boy who emotes always stands back up, literally and figuratively. The boy's legs shake from training and he stands back up, the boy's lips get split for talking about what he shouldn't and he stands back up.

_ Obey, _ says his father.  _ Be better. Be like your brother, _ he says too, and also,  _ I wish he were my heir. _

It hurts the boy, but he smiles anyway, because he knows something his father doesn't. Because his father hears his brother's silence and thinks  _ compliance,  _ but the boy sees his brother moving in the background, hears his brother asking what the boy's opinions are, sees his brother standing between him and his father. The boy hears his brother's silence and knows,  _ silent defiance. _

The boy and his brother don't understand each other  _ (the boy is too much of a dreamer, too frontal for his brother's liking; his brother is too grounded, too cynical for the boy's liking) _ , but they value and love each other. They would make a great team if they weren't pitted against each other all the time.

The boy with the sentient hair killed his mother. Nobody has ever said so to his face, but that is what death during childbirth is. Everybody tells him he looks exactly like her.

He has a stepmother, the woman who gave birth to his three younger brothers  _ (but now only one remains).  _ She's not a bad woman, but she is colder to him because he's not her son.

The boy with the sentient hair still has his father, the head of his clan. His father watches as other family members train the boy, and he insists to push him further. His father sometimes trains the boy himself, until the boy is bleeding and unable to stand up, and still he insists to push him further. Nothing is ever enough for his father.

The boy with the sentient hair bleeds and shakes and aches and hurts, but it's still not far enough for his father.

_ Be stronger,  _ his father says.  _ Be faster, better, more ruthless, _ he says too, and also,  _ you lost three brothers already, and being this weak you'll lose Izuna too. _

It hurts the boy, because he knows he's responsible for his mother's death and too weak to protect his brothers, but he's determined not to fail his remaining brother. He will be as strong as he needs to be to ensure his brother's safety.

They know they are very different, but the boy and his brother love each other very much. They do everything together ( _ except that time the boy left for the river, but he has fixed it now),  _ and they move like one. They make a perfect team.

The boys have parents intent on shaping them to their liking.  _ (This statement is completely accurate). _

Tobirama had noticed how often Hashirama was going down to the river to train. He went there at least once a week, but usually it was closer to two or three times,  _ every week. _

Tobirama was under no illusions of ever understanding Hashirama. He found his anija's thought process to be completely alien to his own, shooting off on tangents Tobirama would have never thought of, nor could fathom how they had come to pass. He perfectly understood that Hashirama was extremely cunning, despite joking about how he most likely braindead, but Hashirama wasn't smart. There was a difference between smart and cunning, and it showed.

Take this river business, for example.

Hashirama was cunning enough to come up with plausible excuses, take detours and keep uneven hours for his trips, but he wasn't smart enough to limit them to one every two weeks or so to avoid suspicion. And Father was going to grow suspicious soon, because paranoid was Father's default state.

The smart thing to have done would have been not to confront Father, but since Itama... since  _ Itama, _ Hashirama had become almost rebellious, up to the point Father had taken to beat him bloody during training sessions to  _ show him. _ What he wanted to  _ show him, _ Tobirama didn't understand; Hashirama was only acting up because he was grieving deeply, and he was the kind of person who couldn't keep his emotions inside as Father wanted.

So, if after a particularly bad training session that ended up with Hashirama's skull cracked, Tobirama had gone to Father and demanded to be trained harder, it was to stop the nonsense of severely injuring one of the clan's best fighters for what amounted to a pissing contest. If it gave Hashirama the possibility to avoid Father, it was an added benefit.

So, in the same vein, if now every time Hashirama was heading for the river Tobirama either distracted Father or hid himself, to claim they were training together when the inevitable interrogation came, it was because whatever Hashirama was doing at the river improved his fighting prowess. If it gave Tobirama the possibility to take a break from Father's hellish demands that were now thrust upon him and not Hashirama, it was an added benefit.

It also definitely had nothing to do with the fact that Hashirama seemed happier now.

It also didn't hurt at all, feeling left behind. Shinobi should have no emotions.

When Butsuma called for him and Hashirama, Tobirama was expecting it. He almost thought Butsuma took too long.

So Tobirama and Hashirama sat in perfect seiza in the common room, their Father in front of them with his arms crossed.

“Why are you wasting time outside of the compound so often?” he asked bluntly.

Tobirama answered before Hashirama had time to fumble. “We've been training ninjutsu, Father. I've been mastering suiton and Hashirama is trying to find the limits of mokuton. Since we don't fully control the techniques, we have decided to move away from the compound to avoid structural damage.”

“Show me your progress.”

Both boys nodded and stood up, and Hashirama sent an odd look at Tobirama when their eyes met.

The three of them left the compound and walked in silence, the boys three respectful steps behind their father. Three steps behind was also the perfect distance to maintain a silent conversation without being caught.

Tobirama saw his brother wildly gesticulating with his face and tried to decipher what he was trying to say. His best bets were 'what were you thinking' and 'why are you lying to Father', so he figured if he stared at Hashirama and gave him a pointed look he would understand.

Hashirama didn't understand and kept making weird motions with his nose, so Tobirama raised an eyebrow, and that seemed to calm him down.

Butsuma stopped suddenly and turned to them, expectantly. Tobirama made the handseals for a water bullet, and then for a water dragon. Both of the techniques were destructive enough, but still a bit subpar for his standards.

“Good. Keep working on your seal speed,” Butsuma said, and turned to look at Hashirama.

The older boy created a wood clone, and then made branches and roots sprout from the ground. They weren't bad, considering Hashirama was inventing every mokuton jutsu, though they needed more work.

“Disgraceful. Again,” Butsuma said, and Hashirama complied. “Still disgraceful, again. Again. Again.”

“How long have you been covering me?” Hashirama whispered as Tobirama got into his futon.

Tobirama turned to his left, to the shape of his brother in his own futon barely visible on the dim moonlight.

“A little over two months,” he whispered back.

“Why?”

“Father's been behaving irrationally toward you lately, and being away seemed to be doing you good. Also... I've been using that time to stay away from Father too.”

“He's pressuring you too, right?”

“Yes, but not like he does you.”

There was a long pause.

“I'm a bad brother,” Hashirama said.

“You're not.”

“You're a bad liar.”

Tobirama had the question on the tip of his tongue. It had actually been sitting there for a long time, but if his anija wanted him to know what he did down by the river he would tell him, so Tobirama didn't ask that.

“Are you safe?” he asked instead.

“Yes,” Hashirama answered. “Unless Father learns what I do, then I'll get in big trouble.  _ Oh Kami, _ you'll get in trouble for covering me.”

“I don't mind.”

“You should. This is... bigger than usual. I want you to come with me.”

“Come where? Now?”

“No, next time I go to the river. Then you can see for yourself and if you want out of it you can tell Father. I won't hold it against you.”

“Anija, what do you  _ exactly  _ do there? Is it dangerous?”

“I go to play with two boys.”

Tobirama frowned, and listened intently as Hashirama told him what he did down by the river.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final chapter for setting the world, and now we can focus on shenanigans

They left for the river after lunch at a leisurely pace.

Tobirama could tell Hashirama was nervous, a little  _ too  _ nervous for it to only be a couple of boys, and it was giving him a bad feeling.

“Anija,” he asked conversationally. “What else are you hiding?”

“Nothing, nothing!” Hashirama said, scratching the back of his head. “I just want you to like them, you know?”

“Let's suppose I believe you.”

“There's nothing to worry about, Tobi!” Hashirama patted his brother on the back. “You'll see! I think you'll like Izuna better than Madara. He's really smart and knows a lot about history; the other day he was telling us all about the Battle of Hayato and we couldn't get him to shut up! Madara was nodding along but I could tell he didn't understand anything Izuna was saying,” he leaned in and whispered conspiratorially. “Madara is kind of dumb sometimes.”

“He must be  _ very  _ dumb if even you can notice, anija.”

“Tobiiiiiiii,” Hashirama whined. “Hey, there they are! Madara, Izuna!” Hashirama was chipper again when he spotted his friends and ran off to greet them.

Tobirama walked out of the treeline, saw his brother's friends, and  _ froze. _ The clothing, the features, the hair...  _ unmistakable _ .

_ FightUchiharunUchihafightfightrunFIGHT. _

The younger boy sucked in a breath. “That is---!”

“Hashirama's younger brother,” the older elbowed him, cutting him short. “Hello, I'm Madara and this is Izuna!”

“Tobi is a bit shy!” Hashirama said and ran toward his brother. He stopped right in front of him and extended his hand. “Come on, Tobi, come meet my friends. You'll like them.”

Tobirama tore his eyes away from the Uchiha to look at his brother's hopeful gaze, then at his extended hand, his brother's eyes again, the Uchiha, the extended hand...

_ DangerUchihafightUchiha _ noprecedentofviolenceagainstanija _ UchiharunFIGHT _ hehasbeenmeetingwiththemformonths _ fightrunUchihaFIGHT _

He took a deep breath.

He took his brother's hand.

Hashirama beamed and tugged him along. When they reached the boys he threw an arm around his brother's shoulders and hugged his neck.

“Anija!” Tobirama complained. “Leave me be!”

“But I want to show you off, Tobi! You're so smart and good and I'm proud to be your brother!”

“It must be hard, having this idiot for a brother. My condolences,” Madara said.

Now, Tobirama wasn't exactly what you'd call good with social clues, but that sounded similar to something Kawarama would have said when he wanted to tease anija. If Tobirama answered Madara like he would answer Kawarama that would create rapport, right?

“Every day is a struggle,” Tobirama said, because it seemed like a good answer.

Madara barked with laughter and Hashirama sulked, so it apparently was a good response, but the other boy, Izuna, just stared at him with narrowed eyes.

“Aniki,” he said. “Maybe we should go home today. Father and Mother are probably worried.”

Madara and Hashirama exchanged a look, and then Madara turned to his brother.

“Maaa, they might be, but there's a problem. We can't go home while you're it.”

“I'm what?”

Madara gave him a shit-eating grin. “It. As in  _ tag, you're it _ ,” he smacked his little brother really hard on the forehead and ran off.

“Aniki! I'm serious! Come back here!” Izuna took off after him.

“Can't hear you while you're it!”

Tobirama thought there was something deliberate about the way Madara led his brother into a merry chase only where Tobirama and Hashirama could see them. They never stranded into the treeline, and the chase wasn't long before Izuna got his brother and Madara was it.

Then Madara alternated between chasing Izuna and Hashirama, and finally caught Hashirama (it almost looked like Hashirama let himself be caught, really). And when Hashirama was it, he chased everyone but in the end tagged Tobirama with a forceful shove that sent him crashing into Madara.

And that was how Tobirama found himself with his left hand plastered on Madara's face, looking like a spooked deer and with his eyes glued to the boy's.

_ Don'tlookintoasharingandon'tlookintoasharingasharinganshari-- _

“Are you tagging me or what?” Madara cut through Tobirama's thoughts, his voice slightly nasal for the pressure against his nose.

Tobirama took his hand away with a frown. “Tag.”

“You weren't touching me!” Madara smirked and scampered away.

Tobirama's eyes steeled and he started the pursuit. Madara was good at dodging, and he was fast, but Tobirama was anything if not persistent. He poured more chakra into his legs and was finally getting close enough, his hand was about to connect with the boy... His fingers closed on an arm.

“Tag!” he said, and then his eyes shot open.

“Aniki, you traitor!” Izuna shouted, staring in horror at Tobirama's hand around his arm.

“Maaa, it's not my fault you can't escape a kawarimi,” Madara answered, standing on the exact spot Izuna had occupied a second ago.

“That was so... underhanded,” Hashirama said with a touch of wonder in his voice. “You're finally learning from me, eh, Madara?” He laughed and smacked the other boy on the back.

“Don't compare us! I'm a strategist and you're a cheating bastard!”

“You're worse...” Tobirama said slowly. “Anija knows not to do that, unless he wants to wake up covered in spiders.  _ Again.” _

“Sshhh, Tobi, don't tell them about that!”

“Spiders?” Izuna asked, contemplatively.

“Spiders, toads, tadpoles, earthworms. On the bed and inside shoes...”

“Oi, brat, don't give him ideas!” Madara shouted.

“...Salt on the tea, pepper under the nose, cockroaches on the food...”

Madara lunged at Tobirama, Izuna tripped him as Tobirama dodged. Hashirama was laughing so hard he fell to the ground.

“...dye the hair bright red...” Tobirama sidestepped another lunge.

“I like that one!” Izuna chipped.

“It needs a special kind of dy---”

Madara finally tackled Tobirama to the ground, but Izuna bellyflopped into the fray.

“Can you get the dye?” the younger Uchiha asked, trying to pry them apart. It was mostly unsuccessful because he couldn't tell which limb belonged to whom.

“Yes!” Tobirama's hand appeared tangled on Madara's hair, trying to push him away. “There's something sticky on his hair! And he's biting me!”

“Aniki's a biter,” Izuna commented, dodging the feet flying past his head. He was like eighty percent sure the knee he was holding belonged to Madara.

“OI, DON'T BITE MY LITTLE BROTHER!” Hashirama shouted and joined in the mess.

“SENJU, ANIKI! YOU GOT YOURSELF A SENJU BOYFRIEND!”

“HE'S NOT MY BOYFRIEND!”

“BUT HE'S A SENJU!”

“YOU DON'T KNOW THAT FOR SURE!”

“HOW MANY KIDS OUR AGE WITH WHITE HAIR AND RED EYES ARE THERE?! ONLY THE SENJU GHOST! OH KAMI, THE SENJU GHOST IS YOUR BROTHER IN LAW!”

“HE'S NOT BECAUSE  _ HASHIRAMA IS NOT MY BOYFRIEND _ !”

“OH KAMI, A SENJU IS  _ MY BROTHER IN LAW _ !”

“HE'S NOT MY BOYFRIEND!”

Madara stopped on his tracks and threw a punch at his brother. Izuna dodged and aimed a kick at his ribs.

“MADARA AND HASHIRAMA SITTING IN A TREE...” Izuna had resorted to flailing by then, brawling instead of fighting, so Madara knew he would win because he was bigger. “K-I-S-S--.”

“SHUT UP!” Madara shoved his brother's face into the dirt and ground it  _ reeeaaal  _ good. He only let go when Izuna's hand slapped the ground in surrender.

Izuna sat up, spitting dirt and leaves, and gave an odd look at his brother while wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

“Do you trust them?” he asked quietly.

Madara leaned back on his arms and looked up to the sky for a while. “Yep,” he eventually said.

“Fine, but we have to be careful. Not that I want to get between you and your one true love, but...”

“SHUT UP!”

“How long, anija?”

“How long what, Tobi?”

“How long have you known, anija.”

“How long have I known what, Tobi?” A suiton flew at Hashirama and he dodged, but barely. “Fine, fine!”

“Then speak,” Tobirama had stopped and crossed his arms, a deep frown on his face.

“To be fair, I don't  _ actually  _ know. But!” he rushed to explain when he saw Tobirama preparing another jutsu. “I had kinda guessed by the end of the winter.”

“Four months ago? You've been meeting in secret with a pair of Uchiha for _four_ _months_?”

Hashirama started walking, looking at the sky with his hands behind his head. “Well, yes and no,” he mused. “They are Uchiha, but I don't meet with Uchiha, I meet with Madara and Izuna. Our clans don't matter, the war doesn't matter... We just talk and play tag, or race. Sometimes we spar too, but not to assess an enemy's abilities. It's just for fun, like when I spar with you,” he sighed. “It's nice being able to make a mistake and nobody dying because of it.”

Tobirama kept his eyes on his path for a long while. “Izuna recognized me.”

“I know.”

“What are you going to do?”

Hashirama shrugged. “I'll see next time we meet.”

**Author's Note:**

> Why is setting the tone so haaaaaaaaard? *Cries in QWERTY*


End file.
